


These Words On My Skin

by mosslover



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: First Meetings, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mild Angst, Soulmate AU, Unrelated Fíli and Kíli, inscriptions on skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14510292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover/pseuds/mosslover
Summary: Kili's Inscription - the first words his soulmate will one day speak to him - finally appears on his arm. But for years, instead of bringing him comfort, the words fill him with dread.





	These Words On My Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarvel/gifts).



> A winter FRE prize for damnitfili, who asked for modern FiKi and some hurt/comfort :)
> 
> I am not sure what category this story is anymore... but I hope there's some hurt/comfort to be found in there and that you like this! :D

The words showed up on the inside of Kili’s forearm while he was sitting in a biology exam.

At seventeen (and a quarter), he was already starting to feel the pressure; a bunch of his friends had received their words by now, though he didn’t know what theirs said. He knew, from their first-hand accounts, what the inscription was supposed to feel like though - a faint tingle on the forearm of the dominant hand, like sparks dancing along his skin, and then a slight, lingering ache as the words slowly rose out of obscurity and formed their tiny, cursive-like, fateful shapes.

The unexpected sensation and the shock of realization that accompanied it made Kili’s pen slip out of his fingers. It clattered onto the test sheet, rolling over all the questions he hadn’t answered yet. Instead of circling answers, he scrambled to pull the left sleeve of his sweatshirt up, barely daring to breathe as hopeful excitement surged through his chest and replaced the crawling dread caused by not studying enough the night before. There was no trace of the exam apprehension left now as he tugged on the fabric with impatient exuberance, eager to see whether what he thought was happening was real.

And when he finally bared enough of his skin, there they were: tiny loops and lines etching themselves onto his body, crossing the pale green of the vein that snaked from his elbow to his wrist.

Relief washed over him, massive and all-consuming.

It was really happening: he had a One somewhere. Living, breathing, and meant only for Kili. And that One, wherever he was, had just turned eighteen. That meant that he – Kili had no doubt that his one was a he – was nine months older than Kili and that was how long he would have to wait to receive his own inscription, to find out the first words Kili would speak to him.

A smile split Kili’s face and he was suffused with an overwhelming need to whoop and shout in triumph, even if that might get him kicked out of the stuffy classroom. He closed his eyes and clamp down on his lips, trying to contain the bubbling sense of joy; it was like attempting to put a lid on a hot geyser.

Then the ache in his arm passed, signifying that the inscription was created, and Kili opened his eyes to read what it said.

But as he skimmed the words, the geyser inside him cooled, until it was not boiling water but frigid ice that it contained. Blood drained from Kili’s face, his grin slipping off as quickly as it had flashed on.

_“Hey, cutie, stay still, you’re losing a lot of blood.”_

 

 

***

The words haunted him.

Gone were the visions of meeting his One in some meet-cute, everyday-situation kind of way. There was no hope of sharing tables randomly at a coffee shop or university library, starting a chat in a checkout line, or bumping into one another’s shoulder during a sunset stroll at the lake side with friends. Even a more adventurous initial encounter would have been totally fine with Kili: meeting his one at a cliff-repelling class, or under a parapet during a raging thunderstorm.

This, though… this sounded a bit too traumatic for Kili’s taste.

It wasn’t customary to share inscriptions with other people, not even among close family. But even if it had been a custom, Kili would not confide his words to anyone; he’d make something boring up instead. It would terrify his mother and sadden his uncle. It would freak out most of his friends. No, the worry and the scary images that had replaced the romantic ones, those were solely his to dwell on in the dark of the night.

When he turned eighteen, it was not a sense of joy that trailed him all day at the idea of someone, somewhere, feeling that tingle on their forearm and discovering Kili’s future words in their Inscription. No: it was a sense of fear and dread at what those appearing words might be, whether they offered some insight into what would happen, and what his poor One might think of them when he sees them.

Though maybe it was better this way, better if it was him who was getting hurt.

He couldn’t wait to meet him. He was dying to know what he was like, and how they’d fit together, and what his skin would feel like under Kili’s hands, and what those words would sound like issuing from his mouth. The ache was overwhelming at times, even as he went about his life, studying and working and laughing and kissing other un-met ones; only ever kissing.

And ever present, over every moment of his life, was a sheen of apprehension; a layer of fear.

 

 

As years went by and Kili’s friends slowly encountered their Ones, he found himself steeped in a bittersweet mix of envy and longing. He wanted – god, he wanted to meet and know his One, he longed for it with a desire that almost suffocated him, but then, he’d remember.

_“You’re losing a lot of blood...”_

And the searing desire would falter and Kili would be lying there in the dead of the night, wondering how it would happen. Would he get struck by a car while walking down the street? Hit by a random bullet during a drive-by shooting? And who would his One be, an innocent bystander? A policeman? The person who did it?

What if he arrived just in time for Kili to die and their first encounter would also be their last?

He didn’t think – he hoped – it wouldn’t come to that. But if he remembered one thing that uncle Thorin used to say, it was that there were no guarantees in life.

And then there was the knowledge that it didn’t matter what he wished anyway; fate held them both in its palms and, one day, whether Kili wanted or not, whether he accepted or resisted the idea, it would come hurtling at him out of nowhere and just simply, irrevocably _be_.

 

***

 

He was twenty-five by the time he’d finally managed to flush most of the fear out of his system. Or maybe he’d just gotten used to living with it over time; it was still there, simmering quietly in the background and ready boil up at any time. But seeing his friends happy with their mates made him almost wish that fate would just hurry up and get it over with.

Two months after his birthday, he’d finally saved up enough for the motorcycle he’d always wanted. He rode it around the city and outside it in the rolling hill country, all the while dreaming about a pair of arms around his waist and a warm weight pressed against his back. Words whispered into his ear, not just written or imagined anymore; a scratchy cheek against his own...

 _I’m ready_ , he thought one day as he glided along a curve in the road, the sun slanting through the trees to his right and glowing on the grass of the meadow to his left. The sound of the motorcycle fell away as he let his thoughts take him up, his mind full of not so much resignation as peace. _I’m ready to meet you. I don’t care what it takes. I want you here with me so I can hold you and love you and be the person you need._

He came out of the curve easily; for a split second the sun’s rays blinded him but he could still see the oncoming cars in the other lane, the second car impatient to pass the first and giving up at the last moment when seeing Kili emerge from around the bend. Kili breathed a sigh of relief and it was only then that he noticed a few small and dark shapes in the middle of his own lane twenty feet ahead.

Behind the motorcycle’s dark visor, his eyes widened in fear.

The shapes in the road moved, but at too slow a rate to clear the road completely before he’d reach them. He had no choice but to swerve around them in a wide arc. As he did so, his tires ran into loose gravel that covered the margin line. The bike, still going fast after he'd accelerated out of the curve, went into a spin.

Kili tried to correct the machine. In the midst of the desperate attempt, he realized, rather unhelpfully, that those shapes were in fact turtles.

He thought that maybe he might have hit one of them after all.

And then the motorcycle dipped into a ditch next to the road and the handlebars slipped out of Kili's gloved hands. He went airborne, and then crashed headfirst into a tree.

 

 

When he came to, he was lying on his back in the grass, the tree that had stopped his flight towering above him. There was a lot of pressure against his skull that seemed to come both from outside and from within; he groaned in pain as if the complaint could make his system reconsider sending such offending signals.

Something wet and warm seemed to cover one side of his face and neck. Kili made to take his helmet off, to see what it was and maybe relieve the dull pressure on his head. He'd had to have hit his head. It was blood.

 _Blood_...

“Shhh,” a voice said close by and Kili blinked up through heavy eyelids and realized that a figure was kneeling next to him. Brown eyes were assessing him from a perceptive and kind face, then removed the helmet with great care, cradling Kili’s neck. “Let’s take a look at this,” the rescue worker said with trained calm. “What’s your name?”

They weren't the right words... It wasn't him...

That was all Kili could think as flashing blue lights reflected periodically against the green canopy above his head: that the moment he’d been dreading and hoping for in equal measure for one third of his life had arrived and his One wasn’t here. What if Kili wasn’t done with waiting yet, what if this wasn’t it - would he have to go through something like this again -

“Kili,” he gritted his teeth through pain and terror. “My name is Kili.”

“Hey, Kili, I’m Bard. Good to hear from you. You were lucky to be wearing that helmet,” the man answered gently, and his deep voice would normally be soothing, reassuring. But Kili was too agitated for that to have any effect on him right now. His heart picked up speed, revving it up to panic.

Then through his wavering, muddled gaze Kili saw a second person approach. All he could make out at first was a head of fluffy blond hair; the facial features were fuzzy yet but the man seemed to exude confidence and calm despite the urgency of the situation. His paramedic jacket was open in front, revealing a blue shirt underneath. Kili strained to see better.

The blond man knelt before him and peered at the wound on Kili’s head, a gentle frown marring his golden eyebrows. Kili tried to shift closer, to lift his head, reach out in hope-

And the man spoke, and his words were soothing and musical and Kili knew them; he knew those words. Relief swept through him and he melted back against the grass and closed his eyes, tears bursting from beneath his eyelids nonetheless. He wanted to say so much – _it’s you,_ _I’m_ _so glad to see you – hear you!,_ _what’s your name_ , and finally – _you’re beautiful -_

But what came out of his mouth in the end was not what he’d planned at all.

“I hope those turtles are okay?”

The man’s eyes – they were a lovely, pale, sweet blue – went wide with shock and realization and awe. His mouth fell party open and he whispered: "You-"

“I – I tried to swerve around them-“ Kili tried to add, but then the pain in his head became too much and his vision went black; the scene, including his One, falling away.

 

 

Kili knew instantly he was somewhere else when he woke up; somewhere inside, cushioned, healing.

But the location was not the only thing that felt different: that sensation went much deeper, and it took mere seconds before Kili's brain, still dazed from the blow against the tree, caught up to the new reality.

Someone was holding his right hand. He turned his aching head to that side to see. 

His mother’s blurred brown eyes looked down at him. She smiled at him and then looked up, behind her, and -

“Hey,” the blond man standing there, Kili’s One, said. “Welcome back.”

“Hey,” Kili breathed, smiling at him, glad he couldn’t see his own appearance, knowing he must be a ghastly sight. “You know, you got me an F in a biology test when you turned eighteen.”

The man laughed, and there it was again, that kind, musical voice that went right through Kili’s chest and into his heart. “Sorry about that. It’s good to see that despite that, you still care about turtles.”

Kili’s mom stood up from her chair, squeezing Kili’s hand. “I'm glad to see you awake after the fright you gave us all,” she said in an affectionate reprimand. “I’m going to get some coffee so you two can meet properly.”

She exchanged a fond smile with the blond man, who was now dressed only in a blue t-shirt and khaki uniform pants. Kili wondered for a brief second how long he might have been unconscious and how many embarrassing stories his mother had managed to spill in the meantime.

Then he thought back to what he’d said back there in the grass, what his first words to his One were, and he grimaced. “You must have thought that was really weird when your Inscription showed up.”

“I considered buying a turtle for a few years,” the blond replied, amused, and took the chair Kili’s mother had just vacated. “Or becoming a zoologist.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Somehow I never got around to either. I’d always wanted to do this job, though I’d never dreamed I’d actually meet you on one of my calls. That was the last thing I wanted.” He looked thoughtfully at Kili, indicating his left arm. “That had to have been a terrifying Inscription to get.”

“Sort of,” Kili admitted.

“I wish we didn’t have to meet like _that_ , but I am glad I did finally get to meet you,” Kili’s One replied, his voice affectionate, his blue eyes dancing over Kili’s features. “I’m Fili, by the way.”

Kili grinned and held out his hand on an impulse. Fili didn’t shake it, though; he took it and wrapped his warm palm around it. Kili exhaled at the touch and the exhale took away with it eight years of worry and apprehension.

Now looking up at Fili’s stubble-dotted face, his kind eyes, strong arms, and that gentle smile, all of it seemed to have been half-forgotten already. It all seemed worth it.

“Nice to meet you, Fili,” he managed in response, throat constricted by an unexpected wave of emotion.

Fili. His One.

He didn’t think he would ever be able take his eyes off of him.

Fili gave him a slightly amused glance. “To answer your initial question, the turtles turned out to be okay. Though you got yourself a nasty concussion for your valiant efforts.”

“I’ll be alright, I’m sure,” Kili said. “Right?”

“Yes, you will.” Fili toyed with Kili’s fingers, and it was sending the most pleasant signals along Kili’s nerve connections - up his arm and straight to his chest. Fili sounded hesitant and hopeful when he continued. “If you’d like it, I’ll be here with you every step of the way, from now on.”

And those words may not have been the ones etched on Kili’s arm, but they seemed to etch themselves directly onto his heart.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I’d like that, Fili.”

Fili grinned and leaned forward, and then he half-stood from the chair so he could press a soft kiss on Kili’s lips.

Kili closed his eyes and breathed him in and knew, finally, that everything was going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this little thing :)  
> Comments/feedback are always appreciated! <3


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